


Option Three

by Inkly



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, G1 level danger, He's a sad pigeon, Marissa is big tired, Multi, No particular universe, also has big millennial energy, and Marissa and Thundercracker deserve it, and they were ROOMMATES, listen I've read a lot of romance novels in the past couple years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkly/pseuds/Inkly
Summary: Marissa is a well adjusted individual living a very normal life. No, she really is. She just so happens to have a roommate slumming it in her barn and mooching off of her Netflix account while he is on his little journey of self discovery.
Relationships: Marissa Faireborn/Thundercracker
Comments: 35
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

Second shift sucked, Marissa decided, pulling into her driveway. The display on her car read 2:27 am and it made her want to die. She had stopped at a gas station to pick up a snack and soda to try and wake up a little before driving the rest of the way home. Degrees in political science and public relations had landed her a job which only had the requirement of “Excellent communication” and “Minimum high school diploma or equivalent”. At least she earned enough that she could upkeep the tiny house that was the only good thing her father had left behind for her.

Though, it would have been nice if they had paved the driveway. Her car bounced down the crappy dirt driveway as best as it could. The low-slung car scraped against a small mound of soil and cobbles that had survived erosion by the last heavy rain. Halfway up the dirt drive, a large puddle of mud caught one of her rear tires.

Marissa groaned, gripped the steering wheel harder and thought about just walking the rest of the way to her home. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but the nights had started to dip into the 40’s so she really didn’t want to if she could help it. Sleepily, she rubbed at her eyes. Shifting into second gear she tried accelerating only to hear tires slip on the wet soil and the _tick, tick, tick_ of pebbles hitting the underside of her car.

She was stuck. It was a half hour until 3 am and she was stuck. Why was this her life?

Turning off the car, she pushed the door open. Zipping her coat up more, she started the walk the rest of the driveway. Soft soil squished under her boots and she looked around as she bit into her candy bar. It was pitch black out so she wasn’t even sure why she bothered looking around. If a puma wanted her, she probably wouldn’t have much of a warning before she bit the dust. Or maybe she would be able to fight it off. Who knows, maybe she’d be stubborn enough to live spitefully until she could actually use her degrees.

Maybe she’d have been able to escape her parents shadow if she had been even more stubborn in school. Maybe one more internship would’ve been enough to get her a job in her field. Oh well. There was no use wondering about what she could’ve, would’ve, should’ve done. She was walking up her own driveway with just a crappy old soda in one hand and a half-eaten candy bar in her other.

Over the crunch of gravel under her boots, she thought she heard a grinding sound. The hair on the back of her neck pricked up and she abruptly stopped walking. She stared at the patch of ground in front of her, barely able to see the brown leather of her boots in what little light the moon provided.

It was silent for a moment, and she decided to keep walking, releasing the breath she had been holding. Her feet moved faster with her discomfort. It was only a short noise, so she wasn’t sure why she was so unnerved. Mental fatigue really took its toll.

Right before she decided to forget about the noise, there was another, sharper, grinding noise. It sounded like twisting metal and the whine of an engine.

Marissa ran the rest of the way to her home, her heart pounding. Slamming the door behind her, she locked it and leaned against it. Nobody should be out and about. Her neighbors were more of the farm type, early to bed and early to rise or whatever. After waiting a couple minutes, no new sounds happened so she hung her keys and took off her boots. Left one then the right. Quick and easy.

The clock in the kitchen read 2:43, gently ticking away in the quiet of her home. Once, she had considered selling the place to get rid of the last dredges of her fathers’ memory in the world. Until she tried to find apartments in the good old New England area and then she decided to keep it real fast. At least it wasn’t in her mother’s name, that was a small mercy. Maybe her father had thought about leaving it in her name once, while sitting in the ugly living room with the puke green shag carpet that Marissa had ripped out herself. He could have even gone to a lawyer expressly to do it. It was more likely that he had pulled out the White Pages to find the Marissa Faireborn that lived in New Jersey, unless her mom moved. Briefly, she wondered why her dad had even remembered that he had a kid running around in the first place.

He sure didn’t remember her while her mom played house with Howard. What a guy, letting someone else father her. Would the wonders of her family tree never cease? At least Howard had cared enough to try to hold the house together when she was going through high school. Addiction is a lot to deal with even without an angsty, rebellious teenager actively making a bad situation worse.

_“I should probably call the old man,”_ Marissa thought, popping the last of her candy bar into her mouth. At least he helped her in college as much as he could’ve.

Tiredly, she shuffled into her bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She flopped onto her bed, grunting into the blankets, and settled in for the night. The clock in the kitchen ticked along lazily in the gentle silence of the night. And then-

_bzZzt!_

Shaken out of sleep, Marissa rolled out of her bed. That sounded like it was coming from the crappy red barn several yards away from the house. She looked out of the window just in time to see a faint light abruptly turn off.

_Oh no_. She scrambled to pull her socks and jacket back on. Hopping on one leg, she tugged her boots on, first the left then the right. _“I swear to God,”_ the woman thought angrily, “ _if it’s a bunch of crappy teenagers…”_ She stomped outside again. It was too late for this, had she been this energetic as a teenager? Crabby from sleepiness, Marissa flicked the flashlight in her hand on.

No, she was pretty sure that she’d spent most of her time in her room working out or reading or just anything besides engaging her mom.

Anyway, whatever shitty teenagers that had forced their way into her barn were going to get yelled at. Trespassing, honestly! Whatever alcohol they had scrounged up was going to get confiscated. She was going to dump it out in front of them if she managed to catch them red handed.

She pushed the heavy wooden door in, and started talking, “I swear, if I recognize any of you I’m going to track down our damn parents and tell them to teach their grubby kids to stay off of other people’s properties! I’m gonna-“

She froze, taking in the huge mass of blue metal in front her. The thing froze in its crouch, bright red eyes looking directly at her.

“What the _fuck!”_

It folded into itself over and over until a fucking _jet_ was in its place. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh no,” She yelled, hitting one of his landing wheels. “Somehow its worse when there’s a jet in here! What are you, some sort if escapee from MIT? Princeton? Military?” Silence.

Marissa crossed her arms and glowered at the jet. “I already saw you, so there’s no point in hiding. It’s not like you even _can_ hide since I don’t remember buying an actual plane on a whim.”

Her eyes were starting to hurt. She was just so tired. That was maybe part of the reason why her body had gone straight into the fight option of flight or fight. Ready to fight several tons of metal.

There was some hesitation before the creature undid whatever it had done in the first place. Now she had a real-life robot sitting awkwardly on a pile of hay in her barn. Blue wings wiggled ever so slightly.

Marissa rubbed at her eyes, “What are you and why shouldn’t I immediately call the cops?”

In the dimness of the barn she heard three faint clicks.

“I think,” The blue robot hesitated, “I suppose the simplest explanation would be that I’m an alien. I ah- am not some escapee from-“ His eyes dimmed briefly and it was most definitely a he because of that rumbly voice. “-from MIT or any of those human universities.

“I don’t even, I am not some human made machine.” He sounded incredibly offended that she could have even considered that as a possibility. Sue her for not realizing that Alien Robots were a thing. Whatever memo that contained that info had obviously missed her. Oops, sorry that you missed your government issued aliens-are-real notice, have you checked your spam folder? Sometimes those sorts of emails ended up there for some reason.

Marissa rubbed at her face, still aiming the flashlight at his feet. “Ok.” She rolled her shoulders and looked back at him. Don’t get the giant hunk of metal upset with you. In the fight between his foot and your entire body, the winner was Very clear.

“Alien man.” The beam from the flashlight found his face. His weirdly almost human face. Alien man had a mouth, straight nose, and bright red eyes that very dimly lit up the barn. It was a fairly non-descript look for an alien. No three eyes or two noses.

“You need to get out. I don’t know how you got here, where in space you’re from, or anything but you gotta go.”

His wings drooped some more, doing a good approximate impression of a pigeon imitating a sad dog.

“I can’t really.... go... somewhere else.”

“What,” She shook her flashlight at him threateningly, “do you mean? Don’t you have other bird brains? Other robot aliens? Go back to Mars.”

“I had an accident. More of a disagreement with,” He stopped talking, then restarted, “I can’t go back to where I was.” He motioned to the side of his abdomen and chest. And.

Marissa didn’t notice that yet. Scorched metal somehow become more noticeable against the alien’s blue. A small cavity was at the center of the mess. Some of the metal seemed to still be glowing faintly, like a sword pulled from a fire, ready to be shaped.

“What happened.” Marissa breathed, staring at him.

“A disagreement.” Is all he said, repeated what he said before. He didn’t seem that bothered by it, so she assumed it wasn’t as bad as it might have seemed.

But. He implied that there most certainly were _more_ of him. And wasn’t that a terrifying thought, metal giants out and about, wandering around without anyone the wiser. _Oh my god_. Marissa was smart enough to know that someone probably did know. She’d spent five years learning about government. The government probably knew. Might even know that one was missing.

Behind the scorched metal, she caught sight of an angry look purple symbol. It was scratched, like someone had gone after it with claws. _What the fuck happened._

“Who’s going to look for you?” She asked, pragmaticism breaking through her haze of tiredness. She needed him _out_. There was no way that she was gonna vanish or something. She was seeing a damn alien, who was probably some sort of government secret even if he didn’t realize he was a walking, talking, top secret problem for her right now.

He seemed to notice her looking at the markings on his wings, and angled a bit away from her. “Uhm. No one?” He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure no one, I remember getting told I was as good as dead to them.”

There was no further explanation.

“I mean besides your friends. Government agencies maybe?”

He squinted at her. The red light of his eyes dimmed as he did that thing as if he was thinking. They brightened. “No, no, I wouldn’t know about any of them. Listen, I just need to stay here for a little bit. Please,” he looked sour to say that, “I just. I can get out of your hair soon enough. This was the only place I could get to that was big enough to provide cover. I don’t feel like dying.”

Marissa stared at him.

“Listen, I might be in danger from some bad guys, but they aren’t bad to you.” He used his hands to emphasize her. “You humans. I mean. They’re bad for me, not you. You wouldn’t be in danger; they wouldn’t bother with you. Trust me.”

“Why do you say that? How can you promise that?”

“They like humans, I don’t know why. Probably because humans put up with them. I don’t know. I can’t go anywhere else.”

Marissa looked him. She almost felt bad for how scuffed up he looked. She was too tired for this.

“Two weeks. I’ll give you two weeks, and if you leave earlier that’d be ideal. But I’m not going to maybe put myself in danger because of you. Stay in here.” Maybe when she woke up, she’d realize it was a dream. She started stomping off before she could turn back and start yelling at him to leave. God she was a mess.

She slammed the door of the barn closed, pretending that she didn’t hear a very small and relieved “Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marissa can't say no to what is, essentially, a kicked puppy.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came sooner than she wished. Her clock said that it was almost 10. At least she got some sleep, even though it didn’t feel like much. Marissa rolled out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to get ready for the dreadful day.

She purposefully didn’t think about her barn problem until she was scrunching her wet hair. Staring at herself in the mirror, she tried not to freak out again, logging what she knew for sure.

Mr. Alien Man was hurt. Alien Man hadn’t squashed her. He seemed sure that no one would try and kill her. Maybe she could get him to clean up the damn thing. Rusty contraptions were scattered all over the place, and when she had first moved, she’d taken one look at it and turned around.

There were at least three pieces of farming equipment in there that she wouldn’t have been able to move. Lord, she was really going to trade room and… maybe board (Did he eat?) for manual labor. She should’ve done it sooner honestly. There were probably enough free-range hippies that would do that trade.

Well, she had one at least.

Marissa Faireborn was nothing if not practical.

Knowing when to quit and when to be spiteful just to disprove someone were definitely some of the seven virtues.

She grabbed an apple off the table, wandering over to the front window to get a look of her new BnB. The red wood shone brightly in the late fall morning. The large doors faced away from the road and the building itself had only one window that faced south. The tiny window was near the peak of the roof, so nothing inside was visible. It probably was the best place for him to hide away to recover to be honest. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought it was meant for secret keeping.

There were some holes in the siding though, enough for cold air to drift inside with no problem, or for a small bird to squeeze through if it really wanted to. She could probably get plastic tarps big enough to cover the walls. How chaotic would it be to charge rent? He probably didn’t have real money.

That’s just about when he noticed the two red eyes watching her. He was a weirdo too. She stared right back, making sure he knew that she’d noticed. The red lights left. Snorting, she finished the last of her apple. A true weirdo.

Twenty minutes later she decided to pull on her boots and jacket to venture outside to see what the big guy was doing. Did he do stuff for fun? What did an alien think was fun. As long as he wasn’t going to destroy anything, which Marissa wasn’t too worried about considering he was hiding from… well a lot of people.

She needed to get the full story from him eventually, hopefully sooner rather than later. Maybe she was secretly harboring a bad guy.

Marissa changed her mind on him being bad when she found him gently re-arranging the few hay bales into a more chair-like shape. Though it looked more like an adult trying to perch on a child’s stool when he sat back on it.

“Are you comfy?” She asked, not really sure what else to say. She probably didn’t have to say something like, _“Hey I saw you watching me, what’s that about? I don’t think you’d fit in my house if you want to upgrade to somewhere that is insulated, sorry.”_ He was probably just curious.

He watched her and honest to god twiddled his thumbs. “Yes,” He didn’t sound comfortable, “For what it is.”

“I could probably get you some more hay, Alien Man, if you want. Bulk up your little chair there.” Marissa shrugged.

He shifted on his glorified stool, seemingly unbothered with showing her his wound anymore. It was so sooty looking, but it wasn’t bleeding (Did he bleed?) or anything similar, so she figured it must be worse on the outside than the inside. At least it wasn’t glowing anymore. She almost missed his nod because she was staring at the melted metal on his chest and side.

“Uhm,” He started, “My name is Thundercacker. If that helps.”

Marissa looked up at his face, “What?”

He gave a very small smile, “My name isn’t Alien Man. Thundercracker is though. You can give me yours. If you want.”

She shook her head, “Oh right, sorry about that. I’m Marissa. I’ll try to remember that.”

Thundercracker repeated her name, his wings doing some interesting half aborted flutter. A weirdo, she swore it.

Back to business.

“I’m going to go shopping to get some tarps for the walls. Do you need anything? Do you eat or- I don’t know do you need entertainment or something?” Lord she was the worst host. It was so awkward asking Thundercracker if he wanted anything for fun.

He shook his head, “I have internet capabilities. I’m sure that I can find something to keep myself out of your way. And. I do eat, just. Nothing you can get me, something like gas might work? I’m not sure.”

 _“Internet Capabilities”_ he was a robot; she wasn’t sure why she was even mildly surprised.

Marissa nodded, making a mental note to bring home some gas, “Alright, sounds good. I’m sure you can find something to watch. Youtube is free, good luck. Don’t get a virus or whatever.”

He smiled shyly at her. “I’ll try not to.”

And that is how Marissa stumbled home with way too many tarps, a 5 gallon container filled with unleaded gas, and having placed an order with a local farmer for a hay delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thundercracker, immediately developing a crush: I lov her, she's so smol and grumpy


	4. Chapter 4

“What do you think of the name Lorelei?” Thundercracker asked, taking care to hold up the tarps. Marissa paused in hammering the nails into the wall.

She re-tightened her ponytail, “What’s the interest in names, big guy? I think it’s fine, reminds me of Gilmore Girls if you like old tv shows.”

Leaning closer, he nodded happily, “Yes, I’ve been watching that recently. Earth media is fascinating, I never knew humans were so colorful. I’ve even started reading some of your novels even.”

“That so?” The sharp slams of the hammer driving the nail into the wall echoed. “What do you think, didn’t get you guys have books and shows where you guys were from?” She held a nail between her lips and leaned farther left to reach the next ring in the tarp. The metal was cold against her teeth, making her mouth taste like steel. She wondered if this was what it was like for him.

He watched her intently as she worked, something that strangely didn’t make her nervous. Brains were weird and hers must have just registered him as non-threatening.

The big blue jet shifted to get a better view, “Well- Yes we did. Of course… we did, but they weren’t always so readily available.” He seemed like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say something. “A lot of people weren’t allowed to have certain things.” Was all he said by way of explanation.

“That sounds like crap.” Marissa said, focusing back on nailing the tarp into place. “At this point, if someone has access to a library or an internet connection you can get anything you want to read. Illegally streaming something is also a thing, but I’d prefer you didn’t try that by the way. Key word is _illegal_.”

He nodded very seriously, “It was. Yes, yes. Don’t worry, I’ve been using your “Netflix” account.”

The woman choked. “You did WHAT? How did you get my password?” She pointed the hammer at him threateningly.

He shrugged, not bothered at all about the tiny hammer being waved at his face. “I. Uhm. I just saw it on the internet history? I don’t know how to explain it.” Apparently, he didn’t expect her reaction. His body language seemed nervous all over again. His hand came up to cover his chest wound. And. Marissa deflated.

“Just. Just don’t do that again, alright?” She asked, feeling sorry for the poor guy. Marissa bit her lip, still wondering just what exactly happened to him, but wisely kept it to herself for now. She was going to ask about it eventually.

“Alright,” Thundercracker repeated, still obviously nervous about it. He leaned away from her, and she found herself missing his friendliness. It felt like being on the shoreline, watching a fish below the water. So close but a very real barrier separated them.

Squeezing her eyes shut for a second, she lowered the hammer. It wasn’t a real threat to him anyway, but it was a token effort. Uncomfortable, unsure to apologize for rightfully being upset but hurting whatever trust had formed between them, Marissa started talking.

“It’s ok,” She said instead of an apology, “Never mind that. You can just. So, what have you been watching or reading or whatever?” Changing the subject tended to work, she swallowed thickly.

Red optics flickered back to her. “Just Gilmore Girls. And Friends. I’ve been trying to work my way through the most popular shows I can find. I’ve been having trouble finding As the Kitchen Sinks though.”

Diversion accepted.

She was grateful for it. Marissa turned back and patted her pockets, frustrated that she’d run out of nails. Turning back to grab the rest of the nails, Marissa nodded to make it clear she was listening to his rambling as he talked about Gilmore Girls. It was relaxing, almost like chatting with a friend.

“I’ve also gotten a book to read. I’m reading one called Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night currently.”

“Yeah? What’s that about? Is it a crime novel or something?”

He shook his head.

“I can read you the summary if you want,” He offered, coming back over. She smiled softly at him, and he perked up from the interest in what he was up to.

Her smile twisted as he read out the summary. It wasn’t a crime novel, that’s for sure. When he said “reawakened his darkest desires” she couldn’t help it. A high-pitched sound came from her, and then she started laughing. She’d just heard an actual giant alien read the summary for an erotic romance novel.

Shaking her head, she tried to get a hold of herself, “I’m not laughing at you,” she explained at his unsure look, “I’m just very, very amused that you’re reading romance. I didn’t figure you’d be interested in that kind of thing.”

“Me neither,” He confided. Metal fingers gently pushed the tiny box of nails closer to her once he realized what she was getting.

“Human courtship rituals are a little bit different, but it’s entertaining and relaxing. It’s nice to be able to focus on something like that.”

Stretching with a sigh, Marissa took the box, marching off to hammer up the last corner of the tarp. Examining the rest of the barn, she was pleased that it was coming along quite well. There were only two more to hang up, so most of the holes would be covered. They still needed to drag in the hay that she had made the farmer drop off outside of the building.

Several cracks sounded as she stretched her back, the muscles relaxing with a sigh. It was shaping up to be a pretty comfortable place. With winter approaching, she was going to have to figure out a way to heat the building, but that could be figured out later.

Marissa looked up to Thundercracker and smiled back at him, matching his equally hesitant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6r9jtjZOsT7y2NVYCZxkzb?si=u9WEHUAySzCGC9owwrG6DQ
> 
> Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night is an actual romance novel, which has a couple erotica scenes. I read it one summer and read through the rest of the series. It's buck wild and lowkey funny with some of the rules in the universe. It's supernatural-ish with vampires, witches, and werewolves for example.


	5. Chapter 5

“Skywarp,” Starscream called, watching his trine mate land. The black Seeker transformed and thundered over, raw fury crackling through his field. The purple details on his servos and wrists were scratched roughly, as if he’d been in a fight.

He could see chips of blue and purple paint under his claws.

“Come with me to my office will you.” It wasn’t a suggestion and Skywarp knew it, there was a big blue _problem_ now missing. They had things to talk about.

Together they wandered the halls of the Nemesis, making a point to avoid Megatron or Soundwave. It would be easier to remedy the problem before it got out. The cassettes were nothing but troublemakers, those little gremlins were the most likely to be snooping around on purpose. At least he was so rarely in his office they wouldn’t be hanging around it.

“Care to explain to me why there’s a missing third in the bond?” He asked, sitting down at his desk. Ah, there was his favorite laser pointer. Maybe he’d set Ravage on some poor loser if he needed a little chaos.

“Screamer you weren’t there, he was questioning Megatron-“ Skywarp started, eyes narrowed and mouth drawn in a harsh scowl.

“So?” Starscream frowned, really not getting Skywarp’s point, waving the laser pointer in the air. “I do that all the time. It’s never been a problem to you before.”

“Yeah, but that’s, like, normal for you.” Skywarp waved it off dismissively. “This was different. He started talking about the humans, said what we were planning on doing was wrong. Said scrap about honor.”

It was the always the same pattern with the Decepticons when they arrived at a new world with the intent to conquer it. Infiltration. Escalation. Devastation. Of the countless worlds, of course now would be when Thundercracker grew a conscious.

Skywarp might have convinced himself that their trine mate had grown past his doubts of the war and the Decepticons, but Starscream had never believed it. He’d always been aware that the only thing keeping Thundercracker with them was that he never particularly cared about anything or anyone outside of them.

He’d become so used to Thundercracker’s penchant for apathy that he’d never really bett he’d act on it. Not near the dwindling end of the Great War.

What made him decide to throw it all away?

“You should’ve brought him back you imbecile.” Starscream hissed, gripping the laser pointer tighter. “You never think things through.”

“Hey!” The other frowned back, offense lashing out in his field in a wave.

One thing was that Skywarp was outranked by the both of them. For obvious reasons.

“Don’t get mad at me for telling you the truth.” He smiled.

Skywarp flipped him off, “Have I ever told you that you’re a real fragger?” He grumbled. “I called him a traitor, Starscream. I got so mad I scrapped his stupid brands off. How can he just decide to leave over some stupid little squishies?”

How could he decide to leave me was more like it, Starscream knew Skywarp meant.

“Tell me exactly what he said.”

“He said stuff about honor like I said before, but then he threatened to tell the Autobots about the plans.” Skywarp threw himself into one of the chairs across from the desk, kicking his thrusters up onto the desk. Little disrespectful miscreant, Starscream growled and stabbed at the offending thrusters with the laser pointer.

“Off.”

Skywarp rolled his optics. How did he even do that? They’d been on earth too long. People were going _native_. Disgusting.

Everyone around him always conspired to complicate his plans. It was all pre-meditated, he was sure of it.

“I shot him right in his chest if that helps.” Skywarp grumbled, crossing his arms over his cockpit petulantly. “I figured that he’d just die like the coward he turned out to be.”

Starscream huffed unamused, “You didn’t want to finish him. You both always forget that I do actually know you both.” He sniffed, “Unfortunately or not, you don’t just leave people lingering around.”

He smiled, crooking one of his fingers at the teleporter (and why was that Skywarps sigma ability really? It was wasted because he didn’t think creatively enough.) “Here’s what we’re going to do.

“I’m going to help you fix your little mess, and you’re going to shut it if someone asks about our dear blue trine mate. We’ll find him before he gets his bearings to go run off and tell everything to the little Autobots, and Megatron won’t find out that you- not me- let a traitor escape.”

Starscream sighed exaggeratedly, “Really you should be thanking me for doing this, you know.”

Skywarp slumped in his chair, clearly dejected at the thought that Megatron might not be so merciful on him. His hero worship was embarrassing to be associated with, Starscream thought for the trillionth time. A member of his own trine.

“You can go now,” He said, flicking his elegant clawtips at the door.

Skywarp scowled at him one last time before stalking off, muttering a ‘whatever’ under his breath.

Left alone in his office, Starscream sighed. Thundercracker was a walking security risk. If he was still alive, which he undoubtedly was because the bond had abruptly ended after Skywarp had left him for dead, then he could even go to the Autobots. And tell them all the strategies and any plans that were in the works that he’d been privy to. It was always a pain when someone in high command decided to bug off.

Neither him nor Skywarp could do much without drawing too much attention to what they were up to. Since Thundercracker reported directly to him, he could bide his time. At least he could try and retrieve him. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done things behind Megatron’s back.

Decision made; he sent a request to the Coneheads to report to his office. They weren’t important enough to be missed. Thrust was a loudmouth, but no one took him seriously. Do a fly by of a big area. Take aerial images. Believe it was just scouting for some energon. They couldn’t mess that up.

The Coneheads shuffled into his office several kliks later, already squabbling over something inane probably. Sending them out would possibly even be a blessing for the rest of the base.

Starscream sneered at the Coneheads, already feeling a helmache come on.

“I need you three to do something for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream just reminds me of Yzma.


	6. Chapter 6

The grass was beginning to look like they were made from silver more often in the morning as the temperatures dropped. It mildly crunched under her boots as she made her way across the yard, leaving damp marks on the leather. Steam wafted from her mug and her nose, and for once she relaxed into the quiet morning.

This was becoming her morning routine: wake up, get ready, walk outside to eat breakfast with Thundercracker, and just talk for a little bit to someone outside of work. Ayana was nice and all, but she hardly talked to her college friend lately. Their schedules never really synched up anymore, aside from how they lived several states apart. Oh well.

It was cloudless this morning, with a cornflower sky to match the crisp air. If she wasn’t such a cynical person, shed almost say it was gorgeous, but in truth it was just another morning to come and go. Distantly, she saw a trio of jets drifting across the sky, little specks impossibly high off the ground, framed by the mountain range behind them.

If people missed contact and activities, maybe Thundercracker was the same way? For the past several days all he had been able to do really was watch tv, sit, and sleep. He was probably miserable or soon would be.

A couple solid knocks, then she was butting in, eager to get out of the elements.

“Good morning,” A deep voice said, surprisingly cheerful for someone who still very much had a chest wound.

She softly smiled, scaling up the creaky ladder that lead to the emptied hay loft to better see him. It’d become her spot as of late, a comfortable out of the way area where they could converse.

“You know,” Marissa started, sipping on her coffee, “usually people say, ‘Hey can you grab me some tape for these boxes?’ Or something like that when they see me. What’s got you so cheerful today?”

He blinked, shifting his bulk into a different position, his arms crossing atop his knees. “Can’t I just be happy?” And the way he said it- she rested her other hand on the declining warmth of the mug.

“Course you can.” She smiled at him. “I meant it as a tease, not as me questioning you or whatever.” He seemed pleased by that, his wings lowering and relaxing into a position that she’d come to associate with him feeling relaxed.

“I am just pleased to see you,” He shrugged, looking down at a square metal and glass square in his hands. She’d been told it was something called a datapad, somewhat like a tablet she supposed when Thundercracker hadn’t expanded on it.

She got the overwhelming feeling like this was something. An admission about something. She smiled, cradling the mug in her lap, “It is nice to see you, it’s a welcome break from the usual.” She might as well be honest back.

That was the right thing to say, since he stopped fiddling with his datapad to look at her again. He seemed pleased with himself, enough that he didn’t even hide scratching at his melted front this time.

Marissa gestured towards it, “How has that been healing anyway? Think you’ll be good to go?”

The big guy looked down at the black and torn metal, poking it gently while inspecting. “Oh. Right. Uhm, yes I guess so.”

“Any idea what you’re gonna do now?”

Did she feel a vague sense of disappointment? Maybe. She’d be fine though. People came in and out of her life in spades, it might be her personality or some other internal failing.

Thundercracker rolled his shoulders in a lazy half shrug, tapping away at his datapad doing who knew what, “I’m not sure yet, but I can’t really go back. And I don’t really want to go to the other side, I’m still-“ He teetered off, the only way people did when there was lots and lots of baggage and history to unpack.

“Break it down for me then, since you keep avoiding a very clear issue. You mentioned before having enemies, maybe I’d appreciate being enlightened for once.”

He was still hesitating, the datapad held limply in his hand, so Marissa barreled on with an offering, “You know, it seems like you’re only giving yourself two options here. It’s like watching someone play “He-loves-me-he-loves-me-not” without even getting to know who “he” is.

You got Option 1: Go back to where you were- which you’re still saying you can’t or Option 2: Go to the other guys, whoever they might be. Maybe if you gave me something, I could help you out a bit.”

He flexed his big gray fingers, “I don’t want to scare you.” He seemed genuine enough, the expression on his face was the same as a contrite kid getting caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

“Hey,” Marissa tried to say comfortingly -and wasn’t that just a weird thing to consider, her comforting the huge alien- “I’m not gonna kick you out, whatever it is. I said two weeks. I’m not going to just change my mind, you haven’t hurt me or anything.”

That seemed to mollify him enough that he started to break down what he was (a Cybertronian), where he was from (Cybertron), and the multi million-year war. She got the abbreviated version of the Autobots and Decepticons. The evils of the caste system, a belief called Functionalism to explain the neat and orderly and controlled society the Senate needed. How he’d never really fully bought into the Decepticon war effort when it started expanding to conquering instead of freedom.

How they’d been trying to blow the capitol city sky high to continue the same cycle here.

It would’ve been nice to know the entire story before she’d decided to let him stay with her, but she already promised she wouldn’t make him leave. It made sense now, why he threw himself into the casualness of a relaxed existence. She felt awful for him and could suddenly see him in the correct light. A staggeringly 6 million-year-old being who was caught in someone else’s power struggle and ended up all alone because he finally decided to do what he believed in.

She thought about the slow erosion and loss of her mother to alcohol, but that failed to compare to the magnitude of his loss ten times over. Marissa realized she’d been quiet too long when Thundercracker started to stand, muttering about how he’d get out of her hair.

“Hey, hey, hey you better back sit down!” She yelped, scrambling away from the hayloft’s edge. Thankfully he listened, sitting back down hesitantly. And not without a little bit of acceptance for what he must have been sure was going to be her yelling at him.

“So.” Marissa started once he stopped shifting around nervously, “You could wander off and maybe get caught by whoever finds you first. Or you could, I don’t know, stay here, I guess? You’ve been at war longer than humans have existed -which is kind of terrifying by the way- so I think you earned the right to do your own thing. You’re liking the shows and stuff so far, right?”

Thundercracker nodded, “I’ve been consuming so many shows lately. The internet refers to it as binge watching, did you know? Er, well of course you know already I’m sure.”

The woman cracked a smile, geez he was a real dork. “You know humans can end up doing whatever they want? Maybe not everyone gets a chance because of money situations, but at least here, you can go to school and learn about essentially anything. We don’t have the whole “what you turn into is your destiny” thing. If you like shows so much, why don’t you look into writing?”

Marissa really looked at him for the first time since meeting him. “I think it’s about time you figure out who you are and who you want to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marissa, completely unaware that she got flirted with earlier: man ur life has been p fucked up so far


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of sex, but nothing explicit.

His chest hurt, all broken and melted glass and metal plates. If he were human, it would probably hurt to breathe if he would even be alive still. He scrubbed his face with his hand, forcefully cleaning out the new jagged cavity with cleanser. It stung and burned, but it was important for it to stay clean as much as possible.

A clean wound made it easier for self-repair to kick in. Stripping the worst off would hurt now, but speed things up.

The human woman, Marissa, had started to visit him in the mornings, to eat and drink and talk to him, but then she would vanish for the rest of the day. It gave him a lot of free time, but he kept finding himself thinking about her. A lot. Maybe too much.

Maybe there was something wrong with him, Starscream would’ve told him to get his processor on straight, but right now he couldn’t. It felt like he was in a loop.

Excitement to see her. Tentative honesty. Then a surprising amount of loneliness. For a human woman.

He flicked a particular jagged bit, some of the scorched metal finally chipped off like a rust layer, renewing itself from the inside out. He was grateful that he now had a place to stay- somewhere he was _maybe_ wanted?- after so long in the grind of military duty. Second command of the Air Fleet, glorified desk jockey for Starscream, and now a hopeless Cybertronian digging through centuries of human romance media.

He had too much time to think now, he really did. He closed his optics and let himself lean forward, chest plate lightly pressed against his knees, and his wings free to shift as they pleased. It was as comfortable as he could get.

She was nice to him, curious about him without an ulterior motive, and had allowed him to eventually come forward with the whole story of how he’d ended up here. Marissa had taken the time to try and make him comfortable as best she could.

She was, was…. well she made him nervous if he was going to be honest with himself. For once he wanted to be, needed to be.

He was nervous around her, as if he was newly forged and was figuring out how the crushing world around him worked. But this was much gentler, a kinder sort of bewilderment.

Marissa had threatened him multiple times, but had always became put out over it, eventually feeling bad about it. It was a new feeling, to have his opinions and feelings considered.

So, yes, he had looked up human courtship and romance. But people of the internet disagreed on so much. Romance movies were watched, but also not the correct model as far as he knew. Then he’d read some novels and had quickly realized that they also had scenes of interfacing (Sex! The word felt weird in his mind whenever he saw it.) where he learned that they might be compatible. He read so many descriptions of electricity sparking whenever lovers touched, but only between the two leads.

Did humans use charges? He found himself really, really hoping so.

Then he’d read about the other moving parts of sex, and then felt like a voyeur for it. He looked into flirting specifically eventually once his curiosity was stated.

People emphasized honesty and kindness, which he could easily do for Marissa. So, he’d got his courage, and told her that he was pleased to see her one morning not really expecting her to say it back, but then she had, and he’d been so pleased with himself. That was one of the highest compliments you could give someone. Thundercracker, master of being flirtatious with humans, was having success.

He’d followed the list and suggestions as best he could. They made eye contact a lot, which was reportedly a very good thing, and they exchanged multiple smiles. He started feeling more comfortable around her eventually, probably because of their shared mornings, maybe because the shock and energy of defying orders started to wear off finally, he wasn’t sure which.

The next steps started to involve touch and proximity though, and he found himself unsure all over again. He became very much aware of their size difference, how even though Marissa was a good height among humans, he dwarfed her considerably. He was one of the tallest of the seekers, pushing 19 feet tall.

Primus, he was more than twice her height. What was he thinking, pursuing a human woman? Would Marissa even agree to a date? His brows furrowed as he thought about it. 

Thundercracker felt foolish and frustrated, upset at being so... big for once. If he'd been Starscream's height it wouldn't have seemed like such a bad height difference. At least he was only 15 feet tall.

His thoughts looped back around to the Decepticons as a whole. They were most likely still going to proceed with trying to take over the planet. Originally, he was just going to just ignore it, but well. Marissa would get caught up in it now, and the thought of that made him uneasy.

Frustrated, Thundercracker pulled out his datapad, and started drafting a message. It wasn’t aligning with the Autobots, it was repaying the favor that Marissa did, and most of all, it was protecting her.

Maybe Neutrals had a good idea to not side in this war. He felt disgusted in how long it’d gone on, a wasted war of attrition that he doubted was going to stop until one side was completely wiped out.

The message would be encrypted enough that it probably couldn’t be traced he told himself. He hoped he was right because he felt old and tired all at once, exhaustion soaking into all his joints. Maybe for the second time he’d be making the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heights were taken and extrapolated from a hybrid of G1 and the Bumblebee movie. TC is the tallest seeker on earth, but still two feet shorter than Megatron. Starscream is 15', Skywarp is 16.7' and rubs it into Starsrceam's face every day.


End file.
